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~*~ Chapter 9 - Happiness and Disarray ~*~

" So what did Xander say, finally?" Willow asked, sipping her coffee. She was sitting with Buffy at the Espresso Pump

"He was uber-freaked out at first, as you can imagine. And Spike had broken him the news so delicately.Anyway, I explained to him that a lot of things had changed, that Spike had been really helpful and great, and that I couldn't deny my feelings anymore. And that I really needed him - Xander - to be ok with it, because he was my best friend and I loved him."

Willow smiled.

" Good point."

"After that, Spike took the phone and said something like 'Xander, if I don't take good care of her, I'll let you stake me good and proper'. So of course Xander agreed. And finally, he took it better than I thought he would. He told me he would try to come back around New Year's Eve."

Willow's face lightened.

"Oh, good. I miss him."

"Me too." Silence fell for a few seconds then Willow asked, "So, you and Spike, living together.pretty big deal, huh?" Buffy smiled.

"Yeah.and no. I mean, it's kind of weird, but at the same time it feels like it was always supposed to happen.that some big forces kept bringing him back to Sunnydale, and prevented us to kill each other."

"Do you trust him?"

"Yes, I do," Buffy said without hesitation. "His chip isn't working anymore. At some point during his absence it stopped working. And he told me he hasn't fed on anyone. I believed him. I don't think the chip was really useful anymore anyway. What he did, the last two years, he did it because he chose to. The chip didn't force him to act good." "He did it for you. Because he was in love with you."

"That was maybe his first motivation, but not afterwards. He started to care about Dawn, even about you, Anya.ok, maybe a little too much about Anya," she said, wincing. "And did I ever thank him for that? No, I went on beating the living crap out of him. For months. You have no idea.oh, let's change the subject, ok? It's the past. We're together now, and that's the only thing that matters."

"I'm glad that things turned out ok for you two."

Buffy nodded.

"Yeah.if only I had some news from Dawn.then everything would be perfect."

~*~*=*~*~*~*~*~*

His unlife was close to perfection.

There were just these two things.annoying thorns in the side.

The first thing was Dawn. The girl he had come to consider like a sister was still missing. She was somewhere in the country, doing God knows what with God knows who. He just hoped she hadn't fall on some vicious guy who would take advantage of her. And if one did.well, Spike would track him down and killed the bloody bastard without a flinch.

The second thing was his soul.

When he had first got it back, it had been hell. All the horror of his previous actions and mayhems had rushed back like a giant wave of guilt and self-loathing. He had realized that that was the way Buffy was looking at him. That thought only had made him want to stake himself. He had stayed in the little village for weeks, pondering about his options. Finally deciding that he had not been all this way, get his soul back and all that just to finish it with a dusty ending.

He would leave the broodiness to Angel and get over it. Try to live with himself. It would not be easy, but he would try not to think too much. Travel again, like he used to do back in the days with Angelus, Darla and Dru. Sunnydale was supposed to be a quick stop.

Only he was still there, and with no intentions of leaving. Ever again.

He had fight to earn his place in Buffy's heart, and at the moment he less expected it, he had won.

And the good thing was, she didn't even know he had a soul. She loved him without it.

And the bad thing was, she *still * didn't know he had a soul.

He had to tell her. He just didn't know how. Or why, to be honest. What was the point, now? It wouldn't change anything. But then again, he hated the idea of hiding it from her. If she happened to discover it, by any means.she would kick his ass, and she would be hurt. He could handle the ass-kicking part, but not the one where she's hurt. Even if it was by omission, he was lying to her.

He couldn't start their relationship with a lie. Living on the Hellmouth was tricky enough not to worsen it with lies.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dawn was painfully aware of Connor's presence next to her.

She had spent the night before in his warm and reassuring embrace, and she wanted to feel this comfort again.

Tonight, he had just walked out of the bathroom and was now lying next to her, not daring to do the first move. Dawn turned on her side and looked at him. He was watching her also, biting his lower lip. She found him completely irresistible and before she knew it, she had come closer and kissed him.

They had never kissed in bed before because Dawn knew it would only bring up the tension between them. But now, she was in this gray area where she was not sure what she wanted exactly, so she thought that maybe it would be better to let things happen and see where it went from there.

As their kiss deepened, Connor pulled her to him and when they stopped kissing, he gently laid her head on his shoulder, caressing her hair. Apparently he had decided he wouldn't go any further, at least for tonight. Was it out of respect, or out of not knowing what to do, Dawn wasn't sure but she was glad all the same.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was early when Connor woke up that morning. Dawn was sleeping next to him, on her back, her head on his arm. He looked at her. She looked lovely, peaceful, and he could see her chest rise from her breathing. She was wearing that light white nightgown that was barely hiding the curve of her breasts. She was so pretty, and he wanted to touch her, to discover the warm feeling of her breasts under his fingers.

Slowly, hesitantly, he moved his hand from her belly, where it was resting, to her breasts, touching it through the cotton fabric, exploring the texture, delicately. He felt the usual discomfort building in his groin again and he stopped. She felt great, but the intense desire to feel her touch him was getting more and more unbearable everyday. He wanted her so much he really had a hard time keeping his control.

He sighed deeply and rolled on his back. He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

He was still awake when the alarm clock rang, telling them it was time to get ready to work.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There was silence in the room, except for the moans of pleasure coming from the bed.

Buffy was back in Heaven.

Kneeled between her legs, Spike was worshipping her with his hands and his tongue, kissing, licking and driving her crazy. She could feel the pleasure grow slowly in her, starting in her legs and spreading in her whole body in delicious waves. She grabbed his shoulders and brought him back to her. Their mouths met savagely, and she could taste herself on his.

With one knee he opened her legs further and stopped for a second at her entrance. She let a begging moan escape, and he smiled, his rock hard manhood pushing suddenly into her. Then he was thrusting hard and fast, while raining kisses on her mouth and neck. Her belly contracted with each thrust, the spiral tightening until she closed her eyes, jerked her head back and her mouth opened on a silent cry. "That's it, baby," Spike whispered in her ear, "Come for me."

And she did, letting a long and primal cry fill the room. Spike soon followed her in her pleasure, letting himself sinking into a sweet oblivion for a while.

Buffy laid sprawled beneath him, unable to move or speak, waiting for her racing heart to slow a little.

He stayed inside her for a moment, hating the idea of breaking the connection. She looked at him and caressed his cheek.

"What would I have done if you had not come back?" she asked with a loving smile.

"I could have never stay away. The memory of you was too strong. It was on my skin, in my blood, in my heart."

He trailed tender kisses on her jaw and neck and she closed her eyes, smiling. He laid back on his back, pulling her with him. She rested her head on his chest, drawing little circles on it with her fingers. Maybe now was the good time to tell her about the soul. But she spoke first.

"It will be Christmas soon," she said.

"Only in a few weeks, pet," he told her, wondering why she was thinking about that all of a sudden.

"Wouldn't it be nice if everybody was back for Christmas? I could call Giles and ask him to come with Anya.Xander said he would be back around then.when was the last time we were all together for a happy occasion?"

Spike thought for a moment.

"Well, except for Giles who was in England, I think it was for your last birthday, pet."

"I said 'happy occasion'.having to deal with some kind of monster warrior and a vengeance demon inside my house is not my idea of a happy occasion."

He laughed slightly.

"Right, I had almost forgot about that. The Bit had confided in Halfrek and we were stuck in the house."

She raised her head and looked at him.

"Talking about Halfrek.you looked like you knew her."

"Not really.She just reminded me of someone."

"Who?"

He smiled.

"Curiosity killed the cat, pet."

"So? I'm not a cat. Except for the several lives part. Who?"

He sighed.

"Remember Cecily, the girl I was in love with before I was turned? I talked to you about her once. Well, she reminded me of her."

"Oh."

Buffy couldn't help the slight pinch of jealousy. You asked, she thought.

"You never told me what happened that night."

"Didn't I? Probably because it's totally uninteresting."

"Everything about you interests me," she said with a seductive smile she knew he could not resist.

"Ok then.Prepare to laugh. I had written a poem. For her. And the people there made fun of it."

"Really? Why? What did it say?"

He sighed and recited the poem. He had it still in mind, even after 120 years.

Buffy considered it for a moment then asked,

"What's so funny about it?"

"Mmm.the effulgent part."

"Oh. Well, I don't know what it means, so."

He laughed and kissed her.

"Will you write me a poem someday?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"Bloody hell no! You may have been able to forgive me for trying to kill you and your friends, but there's no way you'll forgive me for writing you a poem."

"I'm sure I can convince you," she said with a wicked light in her eyes, kissing his stomach and going further down.

But then poetry was the last thing on their minds.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

For once, Dawn and Connor had a day off on the same day. And not only one, but two.

Dawn was incredibly happy. The sun was shining in the sky and Connor and her had gone downtown and at the pier where they had taken the ferry and crossed the harbor. It was a wonderful day, and she was in love. More important, she was ready. Ready to give herself to Connor, ready to discover love with him. She knew the effect she had on him. More than once, she had woke up feeling his hardness against her legs. And she had felt it when he had touched her breasts the other day. It had send electricity throughout her entire body. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

She had just finished her shower and was about to join Connor in their bed. He was probably already lying there, waiting for her to join him. They liked to snuggle a little bit before falling asleep. But tonight, she wanted more. She wanted him to make a woman of her.

Wearing only a towel, she turned off the light of the bathroom and opened the door. The difference of temperature brought goose bump on her bare arms. The room was dark and Connor was on the bed, his back to her. She removed the towel and slipped in bed next to him. As usual, he turned to face her and put his arm on her belly. Surprised to be in contact with her naked flesh, he opened his eyes.

"Dawn?"

She captured his lips with hers and kissed him deeply, bringing their body close together.

"Connor," she whispered, "I love you. I want you to make love to me."

Connor wanted her badly, but he was afraid, he was terrified, he didn't know what to do. She was so insistent, kissing him, caressing his chest and, oh God, going further down with her impatient little hand. His mind went blank and, blinded by pleasure, he quickly removed his boxers and threw it on the floor. He pushed Dawn to her back and, kissing her roughly, guided himself between her legs and entered her with a strong pushed of his hips.

Dawn gasped. When he had begun to kiss her like that, she had thought he was somewhat playing and would soon resume to a more gentle and passionate kiss.

She had read about it, but nothing could prepare her for the sudden and awful pain she felt.

"Ah!" she yelled, with tears coming to her eyes. "Stop! Get away from me!" she added, pushing him away.

She quickly jumped out of bed and sought refuge in the bathroom. Sobbing, she turned the light on and saw blood on her thighs and legs.

She took a washcloth, rinse it and began to wash the blood away. Tears were running freely on her cheek. It was not supposed to happen like that, she thought, heartbroken. It was supposed to be tenderness and pleasure. She sat on the bathtub, feeling miserable.

In the next room, Connor was still on the bed, not understanding what had gone wrong. Why had Dawn reacted like that?

He turned on the light and saw the blood on the sheets.

Oh God! he thought.

He opened the bathroom's door. Dawn was crying, rinsing a slightly bloody washcloth in the sink. When she saw him, she instinctively backed away, afraid.

"Dawn, what's wrong?" he asked, alarmed. "Where are you hurt?"

"Where do you think I'm hurt?" she yelled at him. "Why did you need to be so aggressive? I wasn't going anywhere! A little gentleness wouldn't have kill you, you know!"

Confused, Connor shook his head and took a step towards her.

"Dawn."

"Stay away from me," she hissed, climbing in the bathtub in a silly attempt to be as far away from him as she could.

"Dawn," he said again, with pain and remorse in his eyes. "I didn't want to hurt you. I swear, I.I didn't mean to hurt you."

He was totally at loss about what he had done, what could have distress her so much.

"Why were you so rough to me?" she asked in a quieter tone, but with new tears in her eyes.

He looked away, unable to bear the pain he read in his chali's eyes, knowing he was responsible for it.

"That's.I thought that was the way to do it."

"What do you mean, 'the way to do it'? Have you never heard about gentleness, foreplay, love? Didn't you see people make love on TV? Or in a movie?"

"The.the only time I saw it in a movie, the man was doing it like that and the girl seemed to like it," he confessed. He didn't dare to look at her. He had hurt the woman he loved by his ignorance, and he still didn't know what to do.

Dawn nodded and slid along the wall to sit in the bathtub, holding her legs to her chest. She should have known. They had never really talked about sex before, she hadn't even realize he was a virgin like her. No wonder things had gone so wrong.

"Dawn, I'm sorry," he said sadly. " I didn't know, I.I'm sorry," he repeated, feeling so lame for not finding the right words.

Suddenly, she got up and threw herself in his arms, sobbing again. He hugged her, waiting for her to calm down.

"Do you want to take a shower?" he asked gently.

She nodded.

Slowly, he let go of her, climbed into the bath and started the water, putting his body between it and her so she would not get cold water on her. Once it was at a good temperature, he turned to face her and helped her to her feet. He couldn't help himself but look at her. She was so beautiful, so perfect. He couldn't stop the desire to build in him, and he was glad she had her back to him now. He had scared her enough for one night.

He took the soap in his hand and began to soap her shoulders and her back. Caressing her that way was comforting and exciting at the same time.

He took the shower hose in his hand and rinsed her back. Looking at her naked and slightly shivering shoulders made him painfully aware of his desire and the pain he had caused her. He would never, ever hurt her again. He'd rather die. Still keeping her back to him, he started to soap her chest and her belly, not daring to touch her breasts. He heard Dawn breathe deeply and he almost jumped back in surprise when she leaned back against him, putting her head on his shoulder.

She took the soap away from his hands and put her hands on his. She then guided them to her breasts and when he began to caress her, she brought one of her hands to his neck and caressed the back of his head gently.

His hands felt so good that she moaned softly. When she felt his lips against her neck, she took his hand and guided it down her belly, towards her feminine parts. As much as he had hurt her, she still loved him. And it was not really his fault. They had had a wrong start, but there was lots of ways to make up for it.

Her desire for him was still strong. At first he didn't want to touch her but she insisted.

"I'm gonna hurt you again," he murmured, his mouth in her hair.

"No, you won't."

The certainty in her voice decided him. So he started to caress her, bringing his fingers on her most intimate parts. She moaned with the pleasure of his contact. He was still inexperienced, but his touch felt so good and soon she felt a climax build within her and she came, her legs almost giving up under her weight.

With his other hand, Connor caught her and held her tightly against him. Such simple caresses could give her so much pleasure. She turned around and faced him. Slowly, he leaned towards her and kissed her, pressing his erection against her lower abdomen. He looked at her and saw want and hope in her eyes.

He turned off the water and took the towel on the hanger. He gently wrapped Dawn in it, dried her, then himself. He took Dawn's hand and walked out of the bathroom, switching off the light behind them.

They stood next to the bed and he looked at her. Her eyes were full of anticipation, but he was afraid to hurt her again. He leaned to kiss her and suddenly her hand was on him. His breath caught in his throat and he gasped. He stopped kissing her and put his forehead against hers.

"Dawn," he whispered. "I don't know what to do."

She removed her hand from him and he almost moaned in protest at the loss of contact. She took his hand in hers and she laid back on the bed, pulling him with her.

"Just be gentle, and go slow," she said.

Connor was now over her, on his arms so as not to crush her with his weight. He kissed her deeply and, with his hand, guided himself in her wet center. He slid slowly inside of her. She winced at first, but then smiled encouragingly. He slid a little more and soon he was all inside her.

He could not believe the pleasure he was feeling. He was finally inside her, his wonderful brunette, his chali. He stayed like that for a moment, without moving, looking at her face and gently caressing her cheek. But soon his desire became overwhelming and he started to move. She gasped and an expression of pleasure crossed her face. Connor moved again, and when he saw no pain on her face, he began a more regular movement inside her. He soon felt the climax build in him and gradually, he accelerated his movements. A mind-blowing wave of pleasure washed over him.

Her own climax was long in building but Dawn could feel the tension growing in her. When Connor began to move faster, she could feel it get closer and closer and waited in anticipation of her release. And then she felt him come inside of her and stop moving, leaving her still wanting and unsatisfied. She had been so close, and she was so disappointed, she felt like crying again. But she wouldn't. This was their first time. There would be many others, and they would learn together.

Connor kissed her deeply before rolling on his back with a sigh of contentment. This was so distressing to Dawn. He didn't pull her to him, didn't tell her he loved her, he just rolled on his side and seemed to fall asleep almost immediately. This time, she couldn't keep the tears inside. She faced away from him and silently cried herself to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike was awakened by a strange sound. A familiar sound, although not heard for years. He tried to concentrate, making abstraction of Buffy's light breathing next to him.

Then he knew.

And he didn't only hear it.he felt it.

It was the sound of his heart beating.





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